


Neon Sunrise

by landsail0r



Series: Neon Sunrise [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, SFW but gross and romantic as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landsail0r/pseuds/landsail0r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Exhausted after his first Pride in a new city, Dorian stumbles into a bar only to meet someone who makes his night much more memorable than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday Nights

The bar was even louder and more crowded than the street outside, but at least had the redeeming option of getting drunk. Dorian’s feet hurt, little strands of his hair kept falling forward into his eyes, and his face felt flushed after hours spent in the hot sun. The godforsaken town in which he’d spent his undergrad hadn’t had Pride—if it had, the right-wing picketers would have surely outnumbered the attendees two to one—so he had been excited to attend this one ever since moving to the city, but now he just felt exhausted. The bar had a themed cocktail menu for Pride, and he ordered the first one off the list without reading the description.

It was obvious that the bar didn’t usually have a dance floor, but they’d shoved some tables aside and cleared space for a small crush of people to dance to questionable electronic music played by a bored-looking DJ. Dorian sat at one of the tables near the edge of the dance floor and sipped the mystery cocktail. It was strangely fruity and entirely too sweet, and he made a face before taking a much larger gulp.

A few tables away someone laughed loudly, and Dorian looked over to see entirely too many people crowded around one of the small round bar tables. He couldn’t see the face of the man closest to him, but the way he was leaning on the table made his shoulder muscles stand out starkly, revealed by his sleeveless shirt… Dorian scoffed and looked away, a little annoyed with himself. He was going to get drunk, take the bus home, and spend tomorrow doing all the work he’d put off to get crushed by sweaty crowds today. 

Dorian hadn’t realized that his eyes had returned to the man at the table until he noticed him standing up and turning back towards the bar. His eyes caught Dorian’s for a second as he passed, and Dorian looked away, blushing. He hadn’t been so foolish as to develop a crush on a stranger since freshman year of college. What was he doing, anyways?

The man walked back to his table with a tray of drinks, and Dorian’s heart fell as he saw the tall man next to him ruffle his hair affectionately. He wasn’t here looking for anyone else—he had all the company he needed. A little peeved, Dorian finished most of his drink and swirled the rest around in the bottom of the cup. He watched the people dancing for a while, pondering whether it was worth elbowing his way through the crowd to get another drink. 

He had just mustered the resolve to make it through the throng and stood up when he felt a tap on his shoulder. The man from the table was standing awkwardly just behind him—Dorian hadn’t realized that he was rather short, or that his eyes were the warm brown of dark honey.

“Listen. I was wondering, and I saw… Can I get you a drink?”

Dorian tried to conceal his surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“Can I buy you a drink?” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Never mind. Sorry I asked.”

“Anything with rum in it would do nicely.” Dorian smiled. 

The other man laughed, clearly also a little surprised. “Right. Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Dorian watched him return with a drink in each hand, expertly weaving his way through the crowd without spilling a drop. He set Dorian’s drink down in front of him before pulling up another chair.

“That was impressive to watch. Where’d you learn to move like that?” Dorian immediately regretted his choice of words, but tried not to act embarrassed.

“Don’t laugh, but I actually teach martial arts for a living.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Why would I laugh? That’s pretty cool.”

“No offense, but you look like the kind of guy whose Starbucks order is six adjectives long. Not the type to get your hands dirty.”

Dorian laughed then. “You’re right about the second part, but wrong about the first. I’d never go to Starbucks. They burn their coffee beans.” He tried the drink—it was much better than his first misguided order. “I’m sorry. I haven’t even asked your name.”

“It’s Krem. Yours?”

“Dorian. That’s a name I haven’t heard before.”

“Not surprising. I made it for myself.”

“Not a bad idea, really. Sometimes… well, sometimes our families don’t always make the best choices for us.”

“Fair enough. Not sure I could have expected them to do any better. How about you, though? What are you doing alone in a bar at Pride?”

“I only moved to the city about a month ago for grad school. They didn’t have Pride where I come from. Thought it might be fun. But it turned out to mostly just be loud, hot, and garish.”

“See, that’s why you go with friends.” 

“Didn’t have any who would go.”  
“Maybe now you do.” Krem smiled shyly. 

They sat in silence for a little while, and Dorian began to notice small things about Krem that he had overlooked. Despite his sharp cheekbones and angular jaw there was something soft about him, and when he smiled his whole face shifted and his eyes lit up. Eventually Krem asked him about his impressions of the city, and they made small talk for a while. Dorian found himself making sarcastic remarks just so he could hear the way Krem’s voice occasionally broke when he laughed. 

Dorian bought the next round of drinks, and they were mostly finished when he sheepishly realized that he had taken Krem away from his friends for more than half an hour. When he brought it up, Krem laughed. “They pushed me to come over here. If it wasn’t for them I’d have been too much of a coward.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re a bit intimidating, you know. Nice hair. Very hot.” Krem blushed furiously. “I… am definitely drunk.”

“What a coincidence. Me too.”

“Do you want to dance?”

Dorian made an exaggerated face. “This music is awful.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to live a little. It’s no fun doing things always wondering what other people think.” Krem stood and offered Dorian a hand. After hesitating a moment, Dorian took it, and Krem led him into the center of the dance floor. 

They danced awkwardly just out of reach of one another, the crowd threatening to pull them apart as more people began to flood the floor. Finally, half-yelling to be heard over the music, Krem said, “You know, you’re a terrible dancer.”

“So are you.” Dorian grinned. “Maybe we’re doing it wrong.” He placed a cautious hand on Krem’s hip, drawing him close. Krem draped his arms around Dorian’s waist and they swayed to the music, bodies pressed together; still, it did not feel truly natural until Dorian pressed his lips against Krem’s.


	2. Sunday Mornings

After a while Krem drew Dorian off the dance floor and onto a couch by the back wall. Dorian lost track of how long they stayed there in one another’s arms, kissing and laughing and ignoring more than a few disapproving stares. When Krem left to go to the restroom, Dorian looked at his phone and realized that it was well after midnight. Heart sinking, he brought up the bus schedule. 

“Shit,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Krem had just returned, and was wiping his hands on his jeans.

“I missed the last bus home.”

Krem frowned. “My apartment is less than a mile away. You can come home with me if you want—I mean, not like that—you can sleep on the couch if you want.” Krem made a face.

“I wouldn’t mind intruding on your hospitality a little longer.” Dorian smiled, but his face fell a second later. “You should probably go back to your friends, though.”

Krem grinned and pulled out his phone, showing Dorian a text. All it said was “nice job” followed by a string of emojis Dorian was still rather too drunk to parse. He followed Krem out of the bar, trying not to lose him in the crush of people; thankfully, the street was now mostly empty, apart from a few stragglers weaving their way home. Krem put his arm around Dorian’s waist, and after hesitating a moment Dorian draped his arm over Krem’s shoulders. It’s all right, it’s safe here, he reminded himself.

They made their way down the city street, moving in something one would have to be gracious to call a straight line, faces illuminated strangely by the colorful gleam of neon signs. After a few blocks Dorian began to relax his posture, seeing how the few people they passed did not react at all to them; a few blocks more and he realized he did not want to pull away. Krem was warm, solid, and comforting, and the heady flush Dorian had felt at their previous closeness had softened into a glow. When Krem turned to kiss him before unlocking the door to his apartment, it was gentle rather than eager.

He didn’t pay much attention to the interior of the apartment, following Krem without really thinking about it. When Krem left to brush his teeth, Dorian sat down on the bed, kicking off his shoes. His head was still pleasantly fuzzy, and he yawned widely and stared at the wall for nearly a full minute before realizing how exhausted he really was. He lay back on the bed sluggishly, thinking that he would get up and ready himself for bed once Krem was done in the restroom.

 

Dorian awoke to a ray of sunlight in his eyes, and he resentfully attempted to roll over only to realize that one of Krem’s arms was draped over his waist. He settled back down, smiling a little, but a few moments later Krem stirred and then sat up. Dorian blinked up at him. The sunlight turned his messy brown hair reddish-gold.

“How are you feeling?” Krem asked, blearily rubbing his eyes.

Dorian yawned. “All right. A little hungover. Better than I would have if I’d tried to walk home.”

“Would you even have made it home?”

“I wasn’t that drunk.” Dorian chuckled and then slowly sat up. “Shit. I have so much work to do.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be able to make you breakfast, then?”

“Unfortunately, no. I need to go home.” Dorian paused. “You were going to make me breakfast?”

“I make great pancakes.” Krem grinned.

“I’m going to have to take a rain check on those.” Dorian stood up and stretched. He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and he frowned at their rumpled state and then decided it was better not to check his appearance in the mirror. He might never leave the house. 

He had slipped on his shoes, grabbed his things from the bedside table and made it most of the way to the front door when Krem called his name. Dorian turned to see him walking out of the living room with a pen in his hand. He pressed Dorian up against the wall to kiss him, and for a moment afterwards he forgot to breathe. Krem scribbled something on his arm.

“You know, you could have put your number in my phone,” Dorian said, more than a little flustered.

“This is more fun.” Krem grinned for a second before kissing him again. Dorian melted into his arms and stayed there for several seconds before finally pulling away. 

“I’m going to leave before you convince me to stay another night.”

“You can always call me if you change your mind.”

Dorian left the apartment and was halfway down the hall outside before he turned back, looked at the closed door, and smiled. He spent a moment looking at the messy scrawl on his arm, then turned again and left to catch his bus.

**Author's Note:**

> any feedback is welcome! this is based on a prompt someone sent me--if you have any prompt for this pairing you want to send me, my tumblr is cpstd-anders (warning, though, i'm a junior in college and there's a chance i won't get to it in any reasonable period of time).
> 
> also, sorry about the title. i'm shit at titles.


End file.
